What’s in a Name?

Posted inColumns, Family, Stupid Nicknames

When my co-workers celebrated my birthday the other week, a smile came across my face when I saw the envelope with my birthday card. It simply read: “Shea.”

That was one of the best things that could have happened. For as long as I can remember, I have either attracted nicknames or been called by my last name instead of my first.

I don’t get that much anymore. First of all, I am moving into that territory where I am known as “Mr. Shea” or “Bridget’s Dad.” That’s pretty disheartening.

What’s in a Name?

Posted inCollege, Columns
When my co-workers celebrated my birthday the other week, a smile came across my face when I saw the envelope with my birthday card. It simply read: “Shea.” That was…

Happy Birthday to Me

Posted inColumns, Family

Today marks a very sad day in my life. I no longer have a birthday. Officially, I turn 37 today, but none of that really matters any more. My daughter turns 5 later this week and will have her birthday party today.

Instead of basking in the limelight, I will carry around goodie bags, pass out pizza and make sure no one gets lost in the ball pit.

Happy birthday to me.

Mary Lou Shea, 1928-2005

Posted inColumns, Family

My Mom taught me how to ride a bike in the Hutzler’s parking lot at Westview Mall in Catonsville, Md., on a Sunday afternoon. We had the whole place to ourselves because of the old blue laws. We missed the first half of a Baltimore Colts game while we were out there. I think they played the Buffalo Bills or New England Patriots that day.